


Making An Effort

by HawthorneWhisperer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 16:56:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8924881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawthorneWhisperer/pseuds/HawthorneWhisperer
Summary: Honestly, I woke up this morning and decided to write some James/Lily fluff, despite never having done that before.Enjoy!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I woke up this morning and decided to write some James/Lily fluff, despite never having done that before.
> 
> Enjoy!

“I cannot believe you got us both detention,” Lily hissed.  She was on her hands and knees down the hall, scrubbing— without magic— at the ink stains on the floor.

“You were there too,” James drawled, although his brain was considerably more preoccupied than he sounded.  He hadn’t _intended_ for Filch to catch him seeing if Sirius could catch a half a dozen inkwells thrown the length of a hall, and he certainly hadn’t intended for Evans to get mixed up in it.  It was all Sirius’ fault for falling through the tapestry into the next corridor just as Evans came around the corner.  And he _definitely_ had never imagined that Evans would not only snatch one out of thin air like a Seeker but also _throw it back_ , something that startled him so badly he missed— and he never, ever missed.  Even worse, Slughorn’s party was tonight and if he didn’t finish scrubbing the floor soon, he wouldn’t have time to get ready.

And it was very, very important that he look his best at the Christmas party.  Mostly for reasons that were three meters away and furious with him.

“Not my fault you missed,” she sneered.  “How was I supposed to know that James Potter would turn out to be a butterfingers?”

“I am _not_ a butterfingers,” he replied hotly, instantly regretting it.   _Way to play it cool, mate,_ a voice in his head that sounded like Sirius laughed.   _That was definitely a top ten comeback.  They’ll be writing books about that one for years._

Lily rolled her eyes and tossed her brush into the bucket.  “My half is done,” she announced, and James looked at the stains still scattered around him.

“No fair, you grew up with Muggles— you know how to do this,” he whined, and again he could hear Sirius chuckling in his head.

“That does not sound even remotely like my problem,” Lily said with a toss of her hair.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s other things I’d rather be doing than spending time with you.”

Her last retort ringing in his ears, James watched Lily waltz away and then returned to his task.

 

* * *

 

It had taken a lot of effort to swing an invite to Slughorn’s Christmas party, and James did not, as a rule, put a lot of effort into things.  It messed with his reputation if he was seen _trying_ , but Evans was the eternal exception to all of his rules.

He had started laying the groundwork a month ago, actually paying attention in Potions and surprising both Slughorn and himself when he pulled three straight E’s.  Then, on the next Hogsmeade weekend he bought three boxes of Crystallized Pineapple, to be doled out as weekly presents to soften the old man up.  Last week he had transfigured an ottoman so it would respond to simple commands (and gave it a mouth to fetch Slughorn’s slippers, a tricky bit of magic that took him hours to master) and finally, three days ago he had received it— an invitation to the Slug Club Christmas party, sans guest.  (Sirius was annoyed by that, but Remus had reminded him that the entire purpose of this endeavor was to talk to Evans, which would be hard if James were with any of them instead.)

But that was only half the work.  The _other_ half of the work was getting ready to impress Evans.  He ordered new dress robes and his father had obligingly sent a case of Sleekeazy’s, which mostly sorted out his hair.  He had tracked down several Muggle born students and after considerable confusion about why, exactly, he was asking, determined how they get their news (newspapers, just like wizards, but you had to pay a little extra for the subscription to pay the wizard who went through the trouble of buying Muggle newspapers and tying them to delivery owl’s legs).  So now he had interesting (he hoped) things to say about the Americans and Southeast Asia, plus some opinions on a Muggle band called The Clash.  All he had to do was position himself near someone interesting and thoughtful at the party and maneuver them close enough that Evans could hear.

But the party had been in full swing for hours now and his plan was failing miserably.  Evans was giggling with Mary MacDonald over in the corner near the punchbowl, and all of his interesting anecdotes were being wasted.  The wizard to whom he was talking seemed intrigued enough, but James Potter had not put this much effort into charming the Assistant Undersecretary for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

He finished his butterbeer and decided to give it up as a bad job.  His heart was slowly deflating, but if he got back to the common room quickly enough he could pretend he had simply ditched the party out of boredom— Sirius would probably know he was lying, but might be sympathetic enough to let it pass without comment.  James set down his empty bottle on a small table and turned to go.  “Hey, Potter,” someone called, and he turned automatically.

Evans was standing in front of him, biting her lower lip.  “What?” he asked, rather testily.

In response, Lily rose onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.  He could just taste a hint of firewhiskey on her tongue— those giggles near the punchbowl now taking on new meaning— and once his brain caught up, he opened his mouth and kissed her back.  His hand slid to the curve of her waist, but _just_ as it was getting good and he was really, truly realizing he was kissing Lily Evans— no, wait, that Lily Evans was _kissing him_ — she pulled back.

“Mistletoe,” she explained with a wink.  “Happy Christmas, Potter.”  

James stood there like a concussed troll while Lily melted back into the crowd.  His lips were tingling, and he might have stood there all night if someone hadn’t whistled at him.  Then he saw her bright hair disappearing out the door and he sprang into action.

James wove his way through the partygoers— several of whom were laughing and clapping— and out into the hall.  She was already rounding the corner and he had to jog after her, the corridor thankfully deserted.

“Evans!” he called, but she kept walking as if she didn’t hear him.  He was gaining on her and maybe it was his imagination, but it seemed like her steps slowed a little.  “Hey, Evans— Lily!” he yelled, and that got her attention.

“You forgot something,” he said, and closed the distance between them.

She furrowed her brow.  “What? I didn’t—”

But James bent down and kissed her— a proper kiss on his part this time, not just the stunned reaction of a man caught off-guard by the prettiest woman in Hogwarts. His hand cupped her jaw and her mouth opened almost immediately, her tongue brushing against his and her lips fighting a smile.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and dragged him backwards until they were nestled in a dark alcove between two suits of armor that immediately started muttering about _students_ and _not understanding appropriate places for things_.  But James didn’t give a damn, because _this was actually happening_.  Lily was kissing him and he was kissing her, and he would face down Filch, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and anyone else who dared to intervene.  Hell, he’d hex Sirius without blinking if he interrupted them.   He pressed against her in the dark corridor, his hands slipping through her hair, and decided that for once, trying was definitely worth it.

 


End file.
